Just as Mad
by Autumn'sJCraze
Summary: After being thrown back into Arkham Asylum for the umpteenth time, the Joker works out an escape plan to put himself back out on the streets of Gotham. Although during his stay in the asylum, he meets a beautiful and hilarious woman whose enthusiasm for danger and fun matches his own. However, she wants nothing to do with the clown prince of crime, and he could honestly care less.
1. Playing Nice

**AN: This story is my baby. Please read kindly.**

* * *

 **Chapter One:**

 **Playing Nice**

The Joker was a patient man, but this insipid prick was trying his patience. He keeps talking in circles, and this game is getting tiring. If it wasn't for the fact that the Joker needed to play nice to keep his social time -which he really _needed_ in order to plan his next escape- he would have strangled the boy with his bare hands just to relieve himself of this agonizing boredom. It was taking every scrap of self-control that he had to deny the urges of his violent nature. His eyes remained unblinkingly fixated on the doctor's neck; much to his discomfort. The Joker reminded the young psychiatrist of a predator zeroing in on his prey. The Joker's fingers twitched anxiously and repeatedly against the steel table that separated the doctor from his patient. The table was hardly an obstacle from preventing his assault, but right now, the Joker was trying his hardest to pretend that it was.

At this time, the young Dr. Copeland finally stopped talking and took a moment to fully assess his patient's body language. He -just as any other dimwit in his position would- came to the conclusion that if he continued this session any longer, then those eager twitchy fingers would soon launch themselves across the table and wrap themselves around his neck. Dr. Copeland cleared his throat nervously under the Joker's scrutiny.

"Uuuh, perhaps we should pick up this conversation another time. You seem to be… anxious to get out of here, so I won't keep you any longer." The doctor rose from his chair and offered the Joker a quick acknowledging nod -which he did not return- before exiting the room. The Joker released a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding in until now and girdled a groan deep in his throat. _That was too close…_

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, ignoring the weight of the chains of the handcuffs that bound his hands together. Absentmindedly, he began slowly cracking each knuckle on his hands in an attempt to gratify his fingers and palms with the sensation of breaking _something._

Two minutes went by before an orderly finally walked in to escort him back to his cell. The Joker crossed his arms as well as he could against the restraints around his wrists and feigned annoyance. "Well it's about damn time. Just how long were you planning on leaving me in here?" The orderly simply rolled his eyes and grabbed the Joker's underarm to get him up on his feet. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

The door buzzes open and the orderly exits the room with the Joker in tow. "Shut it clown. I've had one hell of a day."

"Aw what happened? Do you want to talk about it? We can go back to the room and have our own little session time. I'm a good listener and I promise I give excellent advice." The Joker smiled wickedly at the guard who only sighed heavily and chose to ignore him for the rest of the way. Unfortunately for him, the walk down to the isolation cells in maximum security was a long one, and the Joker was not intent on remaining silent for long; which came as no surprise to the orderly because everyone knew that the Joker was incapable of keeping things peaceful; let alone quiet.

When the two stepped into the confined elevator he began berating the orderly about issues in which he knew perfectly well that he had no control over. Truth be told, the Joker _really_ wanted to test the orderly's limits. If he was a hot-head, then messing with him would be too easy. The Joker didn't mind toying with short-tempered people; he found them somewhat amusing. But he much preferred playing with people who were in control of their emotions and knew how to stay composed. It is a million times funnier when he breaks someone who doesn't crack easily. Getting under their skin is a challenge; and the Joker _loved_ a good challenge. This is one of the many reasons why he was so enthralled by the Batman. No matter what he did, the Bat would _never_ crack. The Joker admitted to himself that it was a bit irritating at first, but, he gets that much more fascinated by him with each passing day in which his stoic and arbitrary mind does not waver. _Honestly, that Bat has a mentality made of steel._ But the Joker didn't worry about this at all. With each hilarious stunt he pulled, the Joker could swear he felt himself chipping away at the Batman's walls; slowly but surely. He knows that one day, he will finally break the Batman, and he will be just as insane -if not worse- than the rest of the nutcases kept in the asylum. Because after all, it only takes _one bad day…_

"So Jerry- Can I call you Jerry? You look like a Jerry." The orderly sticks to remaining silent and looks on ahead with his eyes determinedly fixed on the crevice of the elevator doors; begging them to open and arrive on the lower floor so that he can be released from the Joker's insistent nagging. "When are you going to do something about livening this place up? It's so depressing and boring- and don't think I didn't notice the mold growing on the walls of my cell. What are you trying to do? Infect my lungs?" The Joker chuckles heartily. "Oh Jerry… You oughta know that that won't keep me from having my daily chats with you. As a matter of fact Jerry, I've got another complaint. When are you going to do something about the lighting in this place? Would it kill you to change a bulb? Or does it take more than one orderly to do that?" The Joker erupts in a fit of laughter and the orderly does nothing but suppress a groan and roll his eyes.

It was at this time that the elevator finally arrived on the final floor. The orderly could not be happier. He grabbed the giggling clown by his upper arm once again and guided him through the halls of maximum security until they reached his isolation unit at the farthest end of the ward. The orderly threw his hysterical patient in with a bit more force than necessary; which only set him into a greater fit of hysterics.

After several minutes had passed, the Joker finally calmed down enough to collect his thoughts. Ignoring his mattress, he remains on the stone cold floor and stares up at the white paint chipped ceiling. For a moment, he allows the silence to consume his thoughts in the briefest minute of meditation. Then, his thoughts burst into a beautifully organized chaotic mess that could not be interpreted by any other if given the chance to peer inside his mind. The Joker began plotting his escape yet again. Organizing every detail and possible outcome through the current of his madness.

First, he needed to collect a number of items to make his escape possible. This means that he's going to manipulate, bargain, and charm his way into a couple of people's pockets. This is exactly why he didn't rip into his psychiatrist's neck. He needed to keep his social time. He needed to socialize with his fellow _inmates_ to investigate what exactly he could get his hands on. He had a rough idea about who was currently admitted in the asylum, so he began to contemplate the sorts of connections that he should be making.

An hour goes by in which the Joker brainstorms a net of possibilities before a new orderly interrupts his scheming to escort him to the recreational room for his social time. _Finally. It's time to get to work._

* * *

The rec room is a fairly large room with several different options of entertainment available for the patients. On the right side of the room, tables are lined up in two rows and topped with several different board games and random decks of cards. The other half of the room had several couches assorted together for people to chat smoothly amongst each other. There is one single television set up in one corner of the room and there are two rarely used ping pong tables set up in the other.

The Joker took a moment to scope out his surroundings. The first thing he noted was the white scrubbed orderlies stationed at every exit of the room. Then his eyes roamed over the tables to find any face that was both familiar and possibly useful to him. His eyes rested on a man who was only partly visible to him. There was something about his side profile that seemed strangely familiar to the Joker. It wasn't until the man turned his head in his direction to grab a card from a deck on his table, that the Joker fully recognized his identity. It was Two-Face; The crispy mutilated half of his face was well hidden until just now. The Joker quickly realized that Two-Face was just the man he was looking for. He confidently stalked over to where he was and took an uninvited seat at his table.

"Deal me in boys," says the Joker; he was indifferent of the dirty looks he was receiving from the table's two occupants. After a moment, Two-Face scoffs in defeat and nods to his companion to deal the clown his cards.

"I can't believe they let the likes of you up here," says Two-Face; his eyes never leaving his hand.

"Well, what can I say Harv, the new management hasn't learned his lesson yet." The man opposite Two-Face laughs mildly at the Joker's response. It was then that the clown prince finally bothered to look at the third wheel to distinguish his identity. When it came to his face, he was similar to Harvey. The right side of his countenance had a large trail of scars that probably resulted from a severe mistake made during the construction of his famed weapon. The Electrocutioner -a.k.a Lester Buchinsky- was well-known for his reliance on his electrical radiating gloves. The Joker wouldn't be surprised if his disfigurement was the simple consequence of resting his head in his hand on a boring afternoon. After all, he was far from being the sharpest tool in the shed.

"So, what brings you here J?" Asks Two-Face. "You're obviously here because you want something. You wouldn't play nice long enough to be allowed up here if you didn't." Harvey was a smart one. The Joker didn't usually like working with other people, but when he had to, Harvey was always one of his top choices because he was smart enough not to need everything spelled out for him.

The Joker smiled into his hand and dealt a card on the table. "What I want is simple Harv: I. Want. Out."

Two-Face chuckled darkly. "Pfft, simple…" He eyes the Joker's card and then places one of his own. "Tell me J, what do _I_ have to do with this _simple_ desire."

The Electrocutioner then places his card with the others and notices the Joker scrutinizing his every move. "Lose the third wheel and I'll tell you," grins the clown.

Two-Face removes his eyes from his hand to look at the man opposite him. He debates whether he's interested in hearing the Joker's offer or not. He thinks back to the previous times that he collaborated with him and recounted just how successful and beneficial their partnerships usually were. So he came to the conclusion that working with the Joker again wouldn't be so bad. He gives the Electrocutioner a hard look to emphasize his seriousness. "Beat it Buchinsky."

The Electrocutioner takes a moment to look between both men and feels his invasiveness thick and prime in the atmosphere. He slams his hand of cards down on the table and slowly rises to leave while mumbling something incoherent to the other two, under his breath.

When the Electrocutioner is finally well out of their sight, Two-Face turns to his counterpart to discuss business. "What's going on J?"

The Joker smiles deviously and looks down at the card that the Electrocutioner had placed. Keeping up the pretense of their game, the Joker places a new card of his own on the table. "I need someone who can get their hands on certain _things_ from the outside."

Two-Face scoffs. " _Things_ huh? What kind of things are we talkin'?"

"First of all Harv, do you know anyone who can slip things in and out of the asylum?"

Two-Face reaches across the table to grab a couple of cards from the deck and places them in his hand. "Yeah I've got connections. I know a couple of people up in minimum security who -unlike us- are allowed visitation."

The Joker's wicked grin stretches even further. "Good. Now let's say that I manage to get my hands on something of value in this place. Would your _connections_ be able to get me a copy of said item of value?"

The Joker places a new card on the table and Two-Face eyes his movements carefully. "Maybe. But what's in it for me?"

The Joker giggles to himself in utter amusement of Two-Face's direct approach. "Why, you get to come with me of course."

Two-Face is pensive for a moment as he studies the cards in his hands before placing one down on the table. "Alright J. I know a good deal when I hear one. I'm in."

"I knew you would be," grins the Joker. "First things first Harv, I need to get my hands on a key mold, and I won't find one in here."

Two-Face watches the Joker make his move in their card game. "A key mold huh? You know they've upgraded most parts of this place since you were last here. Pretty soon keys will be a thing of the past here. They use key cards now."

The Joker scoffs. "Thanks for the warning Harv but I know what I'm doing. Can you get it or not?"

"Of course I can," says Two-Face with some offence taken from the clown's questioning of his ability to obtain something so simple.

"When will I have it?"

Two-Face takes a moment to calculate the length of time that the process of hand-offs and bribes would take before the item could be in his possession. "A week from today, I'd say."

The Joker abruptly slams his hand of cards down on the table causing Two-Face to flinch at the unexpected rough movement. The clown prince leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and surveys his surroundings. His eyes scan the room, taking note of each face that he sees. "So how are things in here Harv? You been here long?"

With a heavy sigh, Two-Face drops his hand of cards and gathers the scattered mess on the table together. "I've been in here for eight months now." The Joker rests his hands behind his head, crosses one foot over the other, and reclines further back into his seat while releasing a long high pitched -wow- whistle. Two-Face scoffs at his counterpart's casualness. "Tell me about it… I'm ready to get the fuck out. I've seen too much shit happen here."

The Joker watches his feet rock back and forth on his heel. "Anything interesting I should know?"

During his stay at the asylum, Two-Face had seen a lot of whack-jobs lose their shit. He spectated each and every one hoping that the scenes would cause a big enough of a distraction for him to slip out unnoticed. But of course, an incident that big hasn't yet occurred. He was about to shrug his shoulders and answer when a caramel skinned woman in a white coat caught his eye. It wasn't the presence of this doctor that made Two-Face stop in his tracks, it was the person who always seemed to follow close behind her, as of late. "Well…" Two-Face nodded to the Joker in their direction. "There's her. She's been pretty interesting…"

The Joker's eyes followed the direction that Two-Face had pointed out, until they rested on the doctor talking to what he assumed was her patient. The doctor's back was to them and neither of them had a clear visual of who she was speaking to. Whoever she was conversing with was sitting down while the doctor stood before the patient, blocking their view with her back. The Joker watched for a minute out of curiosity as to who Two-Face was referring to. He knew the patient was the one he was talking about because doctors were never interesting people; _They're all so boring._

When the doctor finally moved to exit the room, leaving her patient to enjoy the social hour, the Joker could finally see her. It was a ghostly pale girl with long blonde hair. She sat alone at her own table on the other side of the room. She looked like a lost little lamb in a den of wolves. Nothing about her seemed interesting at all. But of course, something about her had to be; simply because of the fact that she was in this room right now. Arkham Asylum has only one rec room for its patients. That means that its inhabitants of all wards had to share this single room in rotations. Right now, only the patients from maximum security who were behaving well enough were allowed in the room at this time. And as far as the Joker knew, Poison Ivy was the only female patient being held in maximum security and they usually don't let her out because she loved to rebel against authority. He found it interesting that this woman was crazy enough to be held in Arkham's toughest ward but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why she deserved to be there. He raised his eyebrows at Two-Face, waiting for an explanation as to why she was _pretty interesting_.

Two-Face catches the Joker's questioning look. "You haven't heard about her? They shipped her in from some joint down in Louisiana- she and these two other guys. They keep her in this cage that they made just for her- right smack-dab in the middle of the west wing. I can get a good look at her from my cell; anyone can from that part of maximum. She's been here for maybe three months now, and let me tell ya- that girl is a fuckin psycho. At first, I didn't get why they bothered to lock her up with the rest of us, but it became pretty clear, real quick. She kills anyone who talks to her; anyone who walks into her cage doesn't walk out alive. It was only until about a month ago that she started playing it cool and now they're letting her up here."

The Joker looked back at the girl and tried to imagine her killing anyone. He couldn't picture it. From here, nothing about her _looked_ dangerous, so he decided that he needed to get a closer look. Two-Face watched as the Joker rose from his seat. "J, what're you doing?"

The Joker turned to him before leaving. "I wanna see what all the fuss is about," he grinned wickedly.

"Trust me J, you don't wanna do that," warned Two-Face, unsurprised by the Joker's indifference towards his warning.

He strode confidently up to her table and plopped himself down in the empty seat right next to her. The blonde girl shot him an immediate annoyed look but remained silent. The Joker took it upon himself to speak first. "Hello doll face. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room." Her look of annoyance turned into one of disgust. She was in no mood to be hit on by some freak with green hair. But of course, her sour face wasn't bothering the Joker at all. He continued as if she wanted to hear him speak more. "You know; I've never seen you here before. Do you come to places like this often? I do." The Joker grinned darkly and she responded only with a roll of her eyes. "What's the matter sweetheart? Do you not speak English or are you just hard of hearing?"

The girl folded her arms over the table and looked away from him, muttering something quietly to herself that the Joker assumed was a cuss. "Well, whichever it is, it's alright with me kiddo. I'm not a man of words anyway, I'm a man of action; and I appreciate anyone else who can walk the walk. So tell me, what did you _do_ that got you into a place like this?"

The blonde woman releases an exasperated sigh while leaning her head into her thumb and index finger placed against the top of the bridge of her nose. She closes her eyes for the briefest of moments before opening them abruptly and turning to her unwanted companion wearing a wide dazzling smile. "Listen; I'm real flattered by all of this attention- really I am." She stretches her arm out and rests her hand atop one of the Joker's which was resting comfortably over the table. "And I'm sure that you're a real great guy." She patted his hand in time with her pronunciation of the last three syllables. "But… if you keep talkin' to me…" Suddenly her nails begin digging into the flesh of his hand and her smile has completely vanished. "…then I will rip your tongue right out of your mouth and shove it where the sun don't shine."

The Joker instantly erupts into a fit of laughter. His loud, booming hysteria resonates perfectly about the room, demanding the attention of everyone who heard it. His laughter was startling and sheer panic soon enveloped the atmosphere. Two orderlies quickly scurried over to the table to determine why the Joker was laughing so furiously because they -just as everyone else- knew that his laughter was never the product of anything good. However, when they asked what was going on, the Joker was unable to respond; he was too busy howling to even notice them.

He could not believe that he was just threatened by this blonde little girl. She looked him dead in the eyes and threatened him. _The audacity!_ She was _too_ hilarious; the Joker couldn't contain himself. Did she have any idea who she was dealing with? If she did, then she must not have meant for her threat to be taken seriously. This _had_ to have been a joke right from the start. There is _no way_ that this little lamb has the spine to threaten someone like him.

The Joker tried calming down enough to compliment her on her joke but he was too beside himself with giggles that he didn't have the power to stop himself. The orderlies looked to the girl for an explanation but she didn't have one. She was accustomed to people shrinking away in fear of her threats, not laughing at them. If anything, _she_ was the one who laughed when people threatened her; it has _never_ been the other way around. She took immediate offense to his giddiness and could no longer tolerate his presence. "He's bothering me. Can you guys get him out of here?" She said to the orderlies. They gave each other a look before agreeing to do so. The clown's laughter was ruining the laid-back therapeutic atmosphere that the patients needed, so removing him from the room seemed like the best thing to do anyway.

The two orderlies each grabbed him by either of his upper arms and lifted him off his seat. The Joker still hadn't regained control of himself so he threw his head back in a fit of howling laughter and allowed the two white scrubbed men to drag him away, back to his cell.

* * *

Once alone, the Joker finally mustered up the strength to calm himself down. His mind could not stop reeling back to the audacity of the blonde little girl. _Two-Face was right. She is pretty interesting._ Although she isn't very bright; threatening him like that as if there were no consequences to be paid. She's lucky she caught him in a _very_ good mood because otherwise, things would have turned out much differently. The Joker did not appreciate hearing the same joke twice, so if she tried that again and expected the same outcome to result, then she has got another thing coming. He decided that because she got a great laugh out of him, he would let her go unpunished for her deed this time. After all, no one appreciated a good joke more than he did, and her's was _beyond_ hilarious. He tipped his hat to her because no one has been able to get that big of a rise out of him in a very long time. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, the only other person who could make him laugh that hard was the Batman, and he hasn't seen him in a while.

This little lamb may prove to be a good distraction for him during his down time, and there was going to be a lot of it during the preparation of this escape. Getting the items he needed was going to take some time. He didn't see himself leaving the asylum until at least a month or two later. Maybe even three. So, he welcomed the existence of his new little toy. She could help make the waiting time easier on him by keeping him in good humor. He certainly was looking forward to speaking to her again tomorrow. The thought never occurred to him that she was in no way interested in conversing with him again. He didn't care whether she wanted to see him again or not; he was going to start talking to her anyway, whether she liked it or not.

The Joker sat up on his mattress and leaned against the stone wall, staring at the door that kept him confined in this tiny space. He couldn't wait to be freed from this nuthouse. He didn't belong here. He wasn't crazy. He preferred to think of himself as _eccentric;_ and there was no crime in that, so why did he deserve to be in this place? Granted he knew that he was a criminal, so shouldn't they hold him at Blackgate Prison instead? To be honest, the Joker preferred staying at Arkham Asylum. The people here were more interesting. His blonde little toy was proof of that. The Joker had more connections at the asylum but making new ones at Blackgate wouldn't be difficult at all. The inmates at Blackgate were all driven by lust and greed and manipulating them into doing his bidding was mere child's play. At least at the asylum most of the patients could not be won over easily by promises of money and freedom. The Joker really had to analyze different characters and find the right buttons to push. He appreciated the different variety of criminals that were here who helped sharpen his charismatic and manipulative abilities. So he supposed that he shouldn't complain about being confined at Arkham because in a way, it was helping him in the long run.

The Joker looked away from the door and laid down flat on his back, his eyes to the ceiling. He moved his hands to rest behind his head when he felt a dull aching pain on his right hand that was protesting against the weight of his head. He removed his hand to examine what was wrong. He found five little red half-moon crevices imprinted on his skin. Four were on one side of the back of his palm, while one was on the other side. The skin around the wounds was blushed a soft pink and was swelling slightly. The sight of his mild injury sent him into yet another fit of hysteria. So far, this woman has been one good laugh after another. She may just be one of the best toys he's ever had; second to Batman of course. He couldn't wait until he had the chance to play with her again.

* * *

 **AN: Hello everyone! Thank you for taking the time to read the first chapter of this story. I actually have another story published and still in progress right now but I was too excited to write this story that I couldn't wait until I finished the other to post this one. I'm not going to abandon the other story; I'm just going to work on writing both simultaneously.**

 **This story was purposefully written in a completely different writing style because I wanted to exercise my writing abilities and give this story a completely different vibe than my other one has. For the most part, this story will be told from the Joker's perspective and I'm really looking forward to writing his interactions with Harley Quinn. As much as I _love_ Harley Quinn origin stories, I decided that this one had to be different. In this story Harleen Quinzel had already transformed into the almighty villain that she is, and the Joker took no part in her transformation, which actually creates a great level of intrigue and mystery that draws _him_ to _her_. This story is going to be so much fun to write and I can't wait to hear what you guys think, so please review! Lemme know if this is worth continuing.**

 **Peace. :)**


	2. A New Toy

**Chapter Two:**

 **A New Toy**

It was another morning of restrained malevolence. First, his day began with his breakfast being brought to his cell. In all honesty, he had no idea what it was that he was being forced to consume. Perhaps if the lighting in his room was better, then he'd have a better time of distinguishing his meal. However, he doubted that even that would help.

His tray contained a soft mushy substance that really didn't have much flavor to it at all. If he had to guess, he would bet that it was grits. It came with a biscuit on the side and a carton of milk. The other patients at the asylum always seemed to complain about the terrible meals being served to them; but that was the _one_ area where the Joker had no complaints. He rarely ate for pleasure. He usually only ate the bare minimum that he needed to survive. The Joker believed that eating was a terrible use of his time that could better be spent on plotting new random acts of chaos. He thought the consumption of energy was an extremely burdensome necessity that humans required for survival. If he could play God for one day, that was one of the many necessities of the human body that he would eliminate; However, if that chance ever did present itself, this elimination would be the _furthest_ thing from his mind.

Lately however, the Joker had taken to eating each and every one of his meals. The quality of the food certainly wasn't the cause of this new peculiar habit; this behavior was a forced and necessary part of his plan. He needed to build his strength up as much as he could. Patients in isolation tended to weaken and wither away from lack of movement and appetite. The Joker was not about to let this down-time be spent unproductively. He wasn't planning on basing his escape entirely on his new formed strength. He wasn't the type of man to place brawns over brains. He was simply building his strength so that he could be that much more dangerous once out on the streets again. The Joker has always been a man with underestimated strength who could easily win any fight that he got himself into. His one-on-one battles with the Batman however, always seemed to end the same way. He hoped that the next time he faced the Bat, his new energy would take the vigilante by surprise and give him the advantage he needed to finally trump his opponent.

A couple of hours after breakfast, Jerry the orderly came to escort the clown to his therapy session. Of course the transition from his cell to his session room was a taxing experience; as usual. The Joker loved messing with the orderly; it was one of the few highlights of his day.

The two arrived to find the therapy room empty. The orderly sat the clown down in his seat and strapped on his handcuffs a bit tighter than he normally did. This caused the Joker to laugh at Jerry's growing aggression. It seems that his efforts to thin the orderly's patience is proving successful.

Just when the orderly stepped out of the room the young Dr. Copeland walked in and took his seat opposite his patient. "Good morning patient 4479," said the doctor. "How are you doing this morning?"

The Joker allowed a wry smile to spread across his lips. His therapy sessions were a sort of game to him; one in which the doctor endeavored to set up parameters that the Joker would dance around in masked contempt. He filled the doctor's head with fictitious stories and created illusions of therapeutic progress. The poor Dr. Copeland sincerely believed that he was getting through to the clown. It was because of this false sense of advancement that he granted the Joker permission to attend his social time with the other patients from his ward. If this 'good behavior' continued, then soon enough the doctor would also grant him permission to eat his meals with the other patients as well. Maximum security patients do not have the luxury of eating in the cafeteria every single day. They were usually allowed to eat there every two to three days; and only for dinner. Breakfast and lunch were meals that were always served to each patient individually so that they could eat them alone in their cells. In all honesty, The Joker didn't mind if he was forever denied permission to eat with the other patients. His social time was all he needed. True that the more time he spent surrounded by his counterparts, the better the execution of his plan could be, but he could easily conform with what he had. Besides, his enjoyment of his little game was slowly vanishing. Unfortunately, Dr. Copeland was not the sort of person who could hold the Joker's interest for very long. He grew bored of his game very easily and everyday his tolerance of the doctor's presence grew thinner and thinner.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that your social time has been doing you some good. I hope that you enjoy today's recreational time as well." The doctor gathered his notes into his file and rose from his seat. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you patient 4479. I look forward to our next session."

It took some effort for the Joker to bite back the sneer that desperately wanted to reveal itself, but he managed to force a tight smile. "Likewise, doctor." He watched as the doctor exited the room and waited for the door to close behind him before he rolled his eyes, tightened his jaw, and twitched his head to the side, cracking a few synovial fluid packets.

It didn't take long for ol' Jerry to enter the room to escort the patient back to his cell. As usual, the transition from rooms was not a pleasant one; for Jerry that is. The Joker enjoyed poking fun at the orderly. He especially loved how his eye brows would furrow and his top lip would twitch every time he called him Jerry. It was obvious that Jerry was not his real name. But what else was he supposed to call him? The employees at the asylum didn't exactly wear name tags; and Jerry sure as hell was not about to reveal his name, so he had no choice but to put up with whatever the clown decided to name him.

However, the orderly took great comfort in the notion that his compliancy with the clown's antics was compensated every time he threw the patient into his cell. That simple excessive push was the only outlet given to the orderly against the clown; and he enjoyed it very much. As did the Joker, who felt the force of the push grow stronger each day. It was evidence that he had done his personal job of getting under _someone's_ skin each day.

Although, messing with Jerry was great fun, the Joker could not shake from his head the fun time he enjoyed with his blonde little lamb. The girl had made a huge impression on him, and hard as he tries, the Joker simply could not get their little encounter out of his head. He definitely looked forward to playing with her again later that day. Till then, he would just have to sit back and wait for the white scrubs to escort him to her.

* * *

When the Joker was finally uncuffed and released into the recreational room, his eyes immediately surveyed his surroundings in search of a particular face. He spotted Two-Face sitting in the same place with the same man playing the same game. _Boring_. He definitely was not going to join him today. Besides, there was no way that he was able to procure the key mold that he had asked for so soon. So there was no point in talking to him if he didn't have to.

Removing his eyes from the mutilated duo, the Joker looked across the room and rested his eyes on a far more appealing sight. He found his little lamb leaning back in her seat, picking her nails with her legs stretched out and resting on the table; one foot crossed over the other. She took no notice of what was happening around her, and she looked like she did not want to be disturbed or bothered by anyone. Naturally, the Joker believed that this was the perfect setting to go and converse with her. He confidently strode over to her. She took no notice of his presence until she heard the screech of the seat next to her. When she looked up to register the intruder of her personal space, she rolled her eyes obviously and released a disgruntled groan.

The Joker smiled widely at her response to his presence. "Why hello again doll face. I take it you missed me?"

She scoffed. His lamb didn't even bother to spare the clown a glance. She kept her attention purposefully on her nails while she addressed him. "I thought I told you to beat it clown. I'm not interested in anything _you're_ offering."

The Joker smiled at the stand-offish atmosphere that she had created but he was by no means amused at the way she was speaking to him. The Joker was the type of man who demanded the full attention of anyone he was dealing with. The fact that she wasn't meeting his eyes irritated and offended him greatly.

To force her undivided attention, he turned his chair away from the table and moved it closer to her. He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs and completely invaded her personal space. His body was now only about less than a foot away from hers, which was absolutely way too close for her comfort. She could not resist throwing daggers at him with her eyes, which unbeknown to her, was the exact response that the Joker was waiting for.

"Are you _sure_? You know people die to be around a guy like me."

The pale blonde's glare didn't falter as she finally spoke to him without breaking eye contact. "Oh I believe it mister. I can feel myself _dying_ of boredom from just talkin' to you."

The Joker smiled deviously, hiding a twitch of annoyance at the soft spot she had just attacked. The art of entertainment was something that he thrived at. Being accused of boredom did not sit well with him at all. "You're bored are you? That's because I haven't even shown you what I do for fun." In truth, he was not particularly accustomed to dealing with women for very long, so in his defense, he had no idea what they sought in casual conversations with men; to be honest, he didn't _truly_ care. He only wished to know so that he could do the exact opposite. _She_ -however unknowingly- had touched a soft spot in him, and he wanted to do the same in return. The Joker was not so incompetent in the art of women as to not know the soft spot that every one of them seemed to have. With this in mind, he reached teasingly to caress her thigh. "Would you like me to show you a good time?"

Before his hand could even make contact with her, she grabbed his wrist and pulled and twisted it hard before shoving it away. "I told you to back off Buster! How many times do I have to tell you to buzz off before you get the picture? Do you remember what I said I'd do if you kept talkin' to me? I meant it," she spat. The Joker flexed his hand and to his amusement, he felt a sore sharp pain at the joints of his wrist. He couldn't help but erupt in a fit of laughter at her vicious reaction.

He attempted to keep his hysteria under as much control as possible under the hilarious circumstances; so as not to be dragged back to his cell again like he was the last time. He managed to calm down enough to speak after only a minute or two. "Oh I remember what you said doll face, but uh, you have yet to deliver. I'm still talking to you aren't I?" He grinned devilishly.

The pale blonde glared fiercely at the clown for a moment before contorting her face into a forced sarcastic smile. " _Oh_ trust me sweet heart, my threat still stands. Once I get my hands on something sharp - _I promise you_ \- your tongue is gonna be the first damn thing that I cut with it."

The Joker chuckled, completely unaffected and enthralled by both her threat and -oddly enough- her face. She had a beautiful set of white pearly teeth and skin that stretched back nicely over them. "Oh?" He rested his elbows on his thighs once again and perched his chin in his hands leaning his face closer to her; further invading her personal space. "And _how_ on Earth is a pretty _little_ thing like you going to get her hands on anything she's not supposed to in this place?"

The proximity of his face to hers truly did bother the little blonde. But she knew that voicing her disdain for him would only make the situation worse. From the very brief amount of time they spent together, she could easily see that he greatly enjoyed annoying and angering her. So, she decided to pretend that she was unaffected by his proximity because she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of watching her fidget uncomfortably. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and answered him coolly, "I have my ways."

"Care to share?"

She scoffed, "With you? _As if_."

The Joker pouted and leaned his head heavily into one hand. "Aw, why not? Don't trust me?"

" _Duh_ ," she retorted and tossed her hair over shoulder. Her long silky, bleached wheat hair sent an unwelcome wave of her scent the Joker's way. He stiffened unnoticeably when her scent hit his nostrils. She possessed a sweet fragrance that reminded him a bit of bubblegum.

"I could help you, you know," he enticed with forged hopefulness. He knew perfectly well that she would never agree to his help. But he was enjoying their little banter and wanted to move it along.

She furrowed her eyebrows at him. " _Why_ on Earth would _you_ help _me_? Are you stupid or something?"

The Joker chuckled more to himself than at her. He could not for the life of him remember _ever_ being called stupid in his entire life. Though, she technically didn't call him stupid; she only asked if he was. " _Stupid_? No. Curious? Yes," he grinned. "I want to see what you're capable of doing with something sharp."

His little lamb laughed heartily without humor. "Oh, trust me, I plan to show _you_ personally just exactly what I can do."

The Joker's eyes glittered with amusement. He was not used to being talked to this way; he was greatly enjoying this. "Hmm… Do you really think that you'd be able to hurt me?"

The pale blonde smiled sweetly at her unwelcome companion. He could easily see the hidden malevolence underneath her dazzling smile. "We'll find out soon enough won't we?" She leaned in a bit closer towards him, trying purposefully to tease him with _her_ proximity and candied fragrance. She spoke in a hushed voice, as if she were sharing an intimate secret with him. "I wouldn't underestimate me if I were you." She pulled away from him to lean back into her seat and smiled deviously at him.

Had it been _anybody_ else, her closeness and chilled whisper would have brought anyone to their knees. Unfortunately, the Joker was unlike any other man. To be fair, she did have a certain effect on him. It wasn't great enough to pull him completely under her spell but it was enough to make him stop and realize for a quick moment just how pretty she was. Outer beauty was something that the Joker never really took much mind to. He was far more interested in what went on inside peoples' heads rather than what went on outside their heads. His little lamb had certainly caught his attention with her brave and tough personality, but now -in the briefest of moments- she had also somehow managed to make him appreciate her appearance as well. He had to hand it to her, she was very impressive. In the two times that he's talked to her, she had already become his favorite person in the asylum; he even liked her better than Jerry. But as appealing as she is on the inside and out, he doubted that she would last very long nor hold his attention for very long if she were to stick around him. The Joker knew that she would bore him eventually but for now, she was just too fun to ignore. He wanted to see just how far she could go. He smiled sardonically at her, "That's funny. I was going to say the same thing to you. You see… you think that you can kill me, but you _can't_."

The pale blonde smiled and straightened her spine slightly; clearly amused at where his train of thought had lead him. "Oh I can't? Why not?" She challenged.

The Joker returned his chin to rest on both of his hands and smiled like a Cheshire cat. " _Becausssse_ , I won't let you."

" _Hmm_ … Is that so?" She pondered disinterestedly. "Then I'm assuming that you have no problem with hitting a lady, do ya?"

"No. No problem whatsoever," the Joker declared proudly.

His little lamb seemed to be enjoying where their conversation was going. Underestimation was her favorite misunderstanding. She loved being perceived as weak and innocent because it was all the more fun when she got to see the look in her enemies' eyes when they realize just how dangerous she truly is. She looked into the Joker's eyes and wondered what expression he would make when she successfully proved herself superior. The blonde looked at the clown's thin physique and decided immediately that she could handle him easily in combat. She was so confident in her abilities that she believed it was only fair to give the clown an honest warning of what would result in a fight against her. "You know, I've dealt with guys way bigger than you. Dealing with you would be a piece of cake for me."

The Joker cackled. He loved being underestimated just as much as she did. Although he may not appear to be very strong, the Joker could pack a bigger punch than one would think. In other circumstances, he would have demonstrated his abilities right then and there. But being confined in his cell for who knows how long did not benefit his plot for escape at all. So rather than unleashing the full force of his hands on her, he decided to tease her instead; something that seems to give him just as much satisfaction as the thought of breaking her bones. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that size doesn't always matter?"

For the first time, the little lamb actually laughed from sole humor. The Joker listened intently to it as it reverberated from ear to ear. He rather liked the sound of it.

"Oh boy," said the pale blonde, wiping away a few loose tears. "Who told you that lie? It must've been some poor girl who felt _really_ sorry for you, huh?"

 _Ah, so she likes to joke eh?_

Of all things, the Joker could appreciate a good joke when he heard one; sometimes even if it was at his expense. He allowed himself to chuckle deeply within his throat but he felt as though he was being too lenient with his little miss tough guy. She _did_ offer him a refreshing experience as opposed to how he was accustomed to being treated. _Nonetheless_ , as humorous as she was, the Joker knew that if he let her joke about him openly now, she would feel free to joke about him again. And he found only so many jokes about himself to be funny. So it was only fair that he counter her joke with one of his own. "Weelllll,", he drawled. " _You_ would know, wouldn't you blondie? I figured you were the type of person who resorted to _those_ methods. That's how you plan on getting what you want in this place isn't it? You're going to have to get your hands on somebody's rifle before you can get them on a knife, huh?"

Apparently her sense of humor was not as great as his because her countenance had turned a bright red; anyone could easily see that she was quietly fuming. She _despised_ it when people assumed she was the kind of person who would resort to such degrading tactics. She didn't need to. Never had to. Would **never** even think about considering it as a possible option. Sure she could be flirtatious when she needed to be, seductive even. But she _never_ let things go too far.

She was about to blow her top but calmed herself slightly before her rage could erupt by letting out a long deep breath. In a voice as menacingly contained as she could muster, she leaned forward to invade the Joker's personal space in an attempt at intimidation. "Alright, listen you green haired _freak_ ," she spat. "I'm only going to say this once: if you _ever_ so much as whisper another comment like that about me again, I will smash my fist so hard in your mouth that there won't be a single tooth left in it for you to smile with."

The Joker only smiled smugly at her as she returned to her original position, her glare never faltering.

" _Aaand_ I'm only going to say _this_ once," warned the Joker, mimicking her previous endeavor at intimidation but performing it successfully. "Don't **ever** over play your cards _kid_ ," he growled. He noticed her shake for a nanosecond but she recovered and glowered as if she had never broken from her angry trance.

They glared at each other for a minute before the pale blonde broke their electric sync by simply sitting up straight and crossing one leg over the other. She crossed her arms petulantly and scowled at him with the slightest pout; it was almost unnoticeable. "You're some piece of work, you know that? I didn't think _anyone_ could be _soooo_ annoying. Why don't you buzz off and leave me alone already? You and I _clearly_ don't like each other and we _don't_ get along; so why talk to each other when we don't have to?" She tried to reason.

The Joker's Cheshire grin returned. " _Becausssse,_ it's fun," he chirped. "And who said I didn't like you?" He asked cocking his head to the side dramatically.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You've got a funny way of talkin' to somebody that you ' _like,_ '" she air-quoted with both hands.

The clown leaned back in his chair and smiled smugly. "What can I say- I'm a funny guy."

"So I hear…" She said absentmindedly. "I mean- I guess they don't call you the Joker for nothing, huh?" She was murmuring to herself but the Joker didn't seem to mind it. He responded as though she was speaking directly to him. He smiled widely at her and leaned forward once again to bring himself closer to her.

" _Ohhhh_ , so you _have_ heard of me… I'm glad my reputation precedes me."

She grimaced. "Don't let that swell up your head, everyone here at Arkham knows you because the staff won't shut up about how big of a pain in the ass you are." At this, the Joker couldn't resist the laugh that escaped his lips. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and made a fist, propping it lazily underneath the side of his jaw. He regarded her whimsically.

"Is that what they're saying about me? I had no idea…" He said in a humble absent-minded tone that indicated that he knew perfectly well that no one in the asylum enjoyed putting up with him. "You know, _you've_ got a uh reputation yourself," he pointed out. " _You're_ the girl they keep in a cage."

She huffed petulantly and looked to the floor when she spoke. "I hate that damn thing. I didn't think they'd ship that shit with me when I moved here," she said more to herself. Her blue eyes then regarded the clown once again with a quizzical expression. "The _caged_ girl? Is that what they're calling me?"

The Joker only shrugged. "If you've got a name, I don't know it."

He expected his little lamb to be _very_ bothered with this new information. He wanted her to feel inferior because his criminal status was obviously far greater than hers. However, oddly enough, she seemed rather pleased by it. In fact, she was damn right amused. The corners of her lips curled up into a wide smile. Her white pearly teeth bit down on the knuckle of her index finger just to keep herself from openly laughing. Her efforts to conceal her giddiness were however very poor because her throaty giggles seemed to escape nonetheless. Anyone in the clown's position would immediately characterize the girl as mad- what with the way she was giggling so intensely. But the Joker was none the wiser to finding such behavior to be peculiar. He himself laughed _often_ at the _strangest_ things. However, he was somewhat intrigued as to why she was so amused about being nameless.

The Joker twitched his head to the side and regarded her with mild interest. " _Wow_ … Someone's pretty pleased about being a _nobody_."

His remark caused her giggles to cease but she was still amused at the idea of having an unknown identity. The smile that she wore on her face when she retorted was remnant only because of her previous giddiness. "Your mother's a nobody," she accused childishly, sighing away the last evidence of her amuse. She crossed her arms and plopped her feet right back on the table where they had been before the clown's arrival. She was about to add more to her insult, when a four-note jingle played loudly, and dully on the intercom, signally the end of social time for the maximum-security patients. Groups of orderlies began escorting patients back to their cells one by one. The pale woman groaned in annoyance. " _Great_ …" she drawled. "I spent this whole time talking to _you_." She glared.

The Joker only smiled in return. "Time well spent huh?"

She crossed her arms and stared at him for a moment before answering. "Understand this _clown_ ," She uncrossed one arm to gesture vaguely to the space between them. " _This_ was a one-time thing. Next time, don't even _think_ about coming over here and wasting my time. Got it?"

At this time, a couple of orderlies had reached the two. A pair of them nudged surprisingly gently at each of the Joker's arms, silently requesting he stand; which he did, surprisingly obedient. The blonde was also being nudged away in the opposite direction but before she was turned away from him, the Joker said to her with uncharacteristic gentleness, "I'll see you next time blondie."

It was enough to force her to turn toward him sharply against the orderly's grasp. "What did I just say?!" The orderly tightened his grip on her and tugged her arm roughly to get her to continue walking in their original direction. She directed her anger towards him. "Hey! Quit man handling me you stupid white-scrub! You're damaging the goods." She then turned her attention back to the Joker. "And you! Don't you dare talk to me again!" She huffed before turning to walk away, begrudgingly cooperating with her orderly.

The Joker laughed to himself as he was dragged away from the scene by his own pair of orderlies.

* * *

The next three days preceded quietly.

The Joker bid his time thinking of anything and everything that would come across his devious mind; It was really all he could do in solitary. For reasons unknown to him, none of the patients from maximum security were allowed to leave their cells. Not for recreational time or even therapy time.

The Joker took little notice of the passing days. He had a poor sense of the flow of time due to his illusive mentality. Half of the time, he was too absorbed in his thoughts to realize that he was being held in isolation for so long. His meals -which were routinely brought in- were the only certified evidence that he had of his unusual confinement. He was able to keep tabs on the time of day, and how many of them had gone by, by counting these meals.

In truth, his time spent in isolation didn't particularly bother him. Being left alone with his thoughts did not bore him in the slightest. However, what _did_ bother him was his imprisonment itself. He _hated_ being confined to his tiny cell; who doesn't? He also couldn't conduct his escape very well behind bars; most of the dirty work had to be done beyond the walls that trapped him.

On the day that he was finally escorted out of his cell, he was somewhat grateful. The tiniest part of him believed that he had somehow lost the privileges that he had worked so hard for. He knew that he didn't do anything to deserve having his therapy and social time revoked, but _sometimes_ … he had an overactive imagination. There were _many_ instances where he believed that he had only thought about committing a transgression when in reality, he had actually committed it. So, he couldn't really rely on his memory alone.

The reason that the Joker was only _somewhat_ grateful to be removed from his cell was because he knew exactly where he was being escorted to. If there was one thing that he _didn't_ miss, it was his therapy time. He was in no mood to put up with Dr. Copeland's pathetic naivety. But, being the showman that he is, the Joker forced down his own contempt and played along in his one-sided game.

After being cuffed and sat down in his usual seat, Dr. Copeland walked in, greeted his patient, and began shuffling through his notes to pick up where the two had left off in their last session.

"Uh doc?" Said the Joker before his doctor had the chance to begin their session. "What gives? Why haven't we had therapy? Getting tired of me already?" _I sure am tired of seeing you_.

Dr. Copeland smiled assuredly at his patient. "Of course not. There was a small incident that occurred in the east wing of maximum security that sent the entire ward into lockdown for a couple of days. There's no need to worry though; It was nothing serious. We were just taking cautionary measures to make sure that the situation was fully contained. And I'm afraid that that is all that I can say on the situation."

"Hmm…" _I wonder…_ "Are you sure doc? I promise I won't tell a soul," sang the Joker.

"I'm afraid I can't. The information is irrelevant to your therapy anyway, which we should get started." The Joker couldn't help but release an exasperated sigh. He would have rolled his eyes too but he caught himself before he could do it. He had no choice but to go along with the doctor's 'therapy' and play the ever-progressive patient.

* * *

When the Joker was finally released from his restraints in the recreational room, he did the first thing that he always does; he scoped out the room. The entire room was pretty boisterous that evening. It seems that everyone really missed their social time. Not a soul was lounging around doing nothing; everyone seemed to be busy doing _something_. At first, the Joker wasn't aware of who he was searching for in the crowded room, but it became apparent to him when he couldn't spot any blonde women. He gave up searching for her and shrugged to himself. _Oh well, there are plenty of other ways to have fun_.

The Joker was about to stroll towards the only TV in the room and change the channel to GCN -whether the people already watching something cared or not- when he heard a loud sharp whistle that pulled his attention in the opposite direction.

"Hey! J!" Two-Face waved the clown over, who -out of curiosity- obligingly walked over and took a seat across from the mutilated man, who had the table to himself. _Odd._

The Joker looked obviously from left to right. "Where's your twin?"

Two-Face scoffed. "Shut it." He took in the room for a brief moment and spoke to his companion while looking on towards the other patients. "Listen, I got what you wanted."

The Joker's eyebrows shot up with interest. _Weelllllll, that certainly happened sooner than I thought…_ He cracked a huge smile. "Well done Harv! How'd you get it so soon?" In truth, he was generally curious. They had been in lockdown for the last couple of days and there has been little to no opportunities to communicate with other people. _Harvey must have bigger connections than I thought…_

Two-Face chuckled throatily to himself. "You don't need to concern yourself with that J. What's important is that I have it."

"Now?" The Joker tapped the table impatiently. "Well give it here! Let me see."

Two-Face scrunched his good eyebrow to his crispy one in total annoyance. " _Jeez_ , calm down J. Take it easy." He removed one hand from over the table and scooted his seat out a bit to remove something from his shoe. He then extended his hand towards him under the table. "Here."

The Joker latched onto the item eagerly, glanced at it for a second to confirm that it was what he wanted, then stuffed it carelessly in his shoe. After straightening himself out again in his seat, he shook his head from left to right in disbelief and clapped his hands together slowly. "Well done _Harvey_ ," he drawled. "I've got to hand it to you, I didn't think you would pull through so quickly. You must have more influence here than I thought."

Harvey smirked and raised a hand in defense. "What can I say? It pays to play it nice around here. That's something that you're starting to figure out for yourself, huh J?"

The Joker crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. " _Suurrreeee_ , there are perks to playing that card, but _maaaannn_... is it _bo-r_ ing."

Two-Face chuckled. "Yeah I know it's not your style. I'm surprised that you've been able to keep it up this long."

The Joker merely shrugged, seeming disinterested. "Well, when I want something…"

The two remained quietly in each other's company for a couple of minutes before the clown spoke up again. "Say Harv, do you have any idea why we were in lockdown?" What with Harvey's connections, the Joker figured that Two-Face might have some idea about what happened.

Harvey shrugged and looked puzzled. "Beats me. I tried asking around and couldn't get a straight answer. I think it had something to do with someone in the east wing? I don't know."

The Joker sighed exasperatedly. "Only _you_ could impress me and disappoint me in the same day… You really do have _two_ faces huh?"

Two-Face glared at the clown. "Watch it J," he warned. "Why don't you stop focusing on unimportant shit that already happened, and start focusing on getting us the fuck out of here. Now do you know what you're going to do with that thing?" He said referring to the key mold tucked away awkwardly in the Joker's shoe.

The clown waved away Two-Face's question dismissively. "Don't _you_ worry about _that_ Harv. I know what I need to do."

Two-Face scoffed. "You better." The Joker didn't hear this though; his mind was already too busy calculating his next move. He knew _exactly_ what he needed to do, he just wanted to choose the most _entertaining_ way possible of doing it. _Who says you can't have fun on the job?_

He contemplated this for a while, ignoring his companion's irritating questions altogether, when suddenly- he knew exactly how he wanted to conduct the next part of his escape. A wide grin spread slowly across the clown's face. It took _great_ effort to contain the giddiness that was building inside of his chest. He was too excited for what was to come next. He was going to enlist the help of a certain _someone_. Someone who could serve the dual purpose of entertaining him and helping him get the job done at the same time; whether _she_ wanted to help him or not.

 _It's time to turn my little toy into a pawn._

* * *

 **AN: Hey everyone! I'm SUPER DUPER sorry for taking soooooooo long to update! I blame school... and my other story... anyway... thank you guys for reading thus far. I really appreciate the support that I get from everyone. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the story so far. Don't forget to let me know what you all think. Reviews are the best! Thanks everybody, I'll see you all in the next chapter! :D**


	3. Pawns and Pieces

**Chapter 3**

 **Pawns and Pieces**

The next day ran as it should. After the east wing incident, things in maximum security were finally falling back into their normal rhythm. The Joker had his therapy session and was now being escorted to his recreational time. When he reached the room along with the orderly escorting him, his hands were uncuffed and he was released into the throng of patients to mingle with whomsoever he pleased. Luckily for the other patients, the Joker was not in a mood to socialize with _anyone_. His therapy session had left him in a foul mood and he was not inclined to risk losing his temper on the next dimwit who dared to piss him off. He's worked too hard to get to where he is now and he was not about to let his short temper ruin everything.

The Joker took one glance at the television in the corner of the room and decided immediately that he would just sit and watch it. He walked smoothly and languidly to the three-seat couch and sank himself into the tan plushy cushions. He sandwiched himself right in between two patients who were sitting quietly enjoying whatever it was they were watching. Upon the Joker's arrival, the two patients' body went rigid and they exchanged one short, knowing glance at each other before getting up and leaving. It was never a wise decision to simply ignore the Joker's presence and continue on as if he wasn't there; In situations such as this, it's best to just let him do what he wants and just leave.

The Joker took no notice of the two leaving. He leaned forward to grab the remote control from the coffee table and then lurched back into his original position. Some god-awful bridal show was playing on the television, and the Joker stuck his tongue out petulantly at it and changed the channel quickly. He flipped through each channel until he found what he was looking for; GCN. He'd been itching to hear some news from the outside. But if he were being honest with himself, he didn't want to hear just _any_ news. He wanted to see if there was anything new to hear about the Batman. The media _loves_ him. If anything happened that revolved around him, he would without a doubt hear about it on GCN.

So he sat and waited.

So far, he's seen the weather, a couple of stories about failed robberies ( _Those happened by the dozen in this city…_ ), a couple of stories of things happening overseas, a new iPhone is coming out, and some young upcoming celebrity died of an overdose. _Nothing on the Bat…_

The Joker smiled to himself. _I bet he's sitting at home twiddling his thumbs, waiting for me._ The Bat had plenty of playmates, but he knew that he was his favorite. When the Joker is behind bars, the Bat isn't as active as he would be otherwise. Batman handled anything that had to do with the Joker personally, and the Joker couldn't help but be extremely flattered. Though in truth, if the Batman chose to always take on anything that had to with the Joker, it was because he thought the clown was too dangerous to be taken down by anyone else. But that is a bit of information that _no one_ could ever get through the Joker's head.

With no news of the Bat, GCN didn't do a very good job of keeping his attention. He yawned and patted his open lips absent mindedly as he did. He crossed his arms and sunk deeper into the couch. His eyes were drifting from the screen and he began thinking about other things, when suddenly, a certain someone walked into his line of sight. A pretty little blonde walked into the room with none other than Dr. Arkham himself. At the sight of this, the Joker sat up at attention and observed the two quizzically. They were conversing rather animatedly; as if they were close. _How can that be?_ Dr. Arkham rarely took the time to escort his patients anywhere, let alone to buddy up with them. _Could he be treating her?_ _I thought he didn't have any patients._ As the head of the asylum, it was an odd idea to think of Dr. Arkham personally treating _anyone_. But what other conclusion could he come to? If he was remembering correctly, Two-Face said that she had come from Louisiana. _Or was it St. Louis? Los Angeles? …Whatever. It doesn't matter._ The point being that she isn't from Gotham. So, the only way the two could have become buddy-buddies is if they were doctor and patient. But that assumption seemed farfetched.

He continued to watch the two converse. The blonde threw her head back and laughed and then briefly touched his arm. Dr. Arkham didn't mind the contact. He smiled warmly at her.

 _Hmm…_

The Joker tightened his jaw while he thought. For the life of him, he couldn't figure them out. But he was moving on from that. He was far more intrigued by the relationship itself. Something in the back of his mind was gnawing at him; telling him that he could somehow use this to his advantage. But for the moment he couldn't figure out how. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes burned with the intensity of his thoughts. The gears turning in his head could easily be pictured with his current expression.

Dr. Arkham was rarely ever in the recreational room. If the Joker had to estimate how often he visited this room, he'd have to say that he did it at least once a month.

Dr. Arkham, being the head of the entire facility, carried a master key. A master key doesn't grant access to every part of the asylum, because some wings are upgraded and use key cards. However, that doesn't mean that a master key would be useless. He could still get into certain important places.

The Joker brought his attention back to the doctor and saw that he had a ring of keys attached at his waist.

 _Okay. I see the prize. Now how… do I get it…_

His gaze slowly shifted over to the blonde patient.

 _Hmm…_

The Joker knew that he had wanted to use her as a pawn. But he had something entirely different planned for her. However… given this new bit of information, he was formulating a new plan. One he couldn't pass up. The more he thought about it, the more obvious his next move became to him. He knew _exactly_ how he would use this relationship against them. But it would take time. He'd have to wait for Dr. Arkham to show himself in the rec room again. Although, looking at the doctor now, the Joker could tell that he might not have to wait long. Dr. Arkham was leaving the room. That means that he was only dropping off his patient; he wasn't staying to monitor them. So his _actual_ monthly visit could happen on any of the coming days.

 _This could all work out conveniently. …Lucky me._ He smiled his Cheshire grin.

His eyes went back the blonde curiously. She had moved to another side of the room to sit down by herself at a table and read what looked like a magazine. She had her legs stretched out and resting on the table while she leaned back in her seat and chewed on something; perhaps gum. How she got it; he had no idea. She could be chewing on paper for all he knew.

Luckily for her, the Joker was still in no mood to socialize with anyone, so he would leave her be today. Besides, if he bothered her every day, it would get old fast. He didn't want to lose one of the few forms of entertainment that he had. So instead, he stretched himself out on the couch and let his eyes roam the room. Deciding who's help he would recruit for his coming scheme.

* * *

Having just completed yet another therapy session, the Joker was currently being escorted back to his cell by _Jerry_ for the umpteenth time. The Joker liked Jerry. He was fun to mess with. And more importantly, he was becoming easier and easier to crack. However, the Joker was waiting to break him. It is because the orderly is on the Joker's "good" side, the clown thought it appropriate to offer him recruitment on his team of allies. There were plenty of crooked orderlies in the asylum. If the Joker offered him the right price, he was sure he'd accept his offer. But there was only one way to really find out.

"So Jerry," said the clown conversationally. "How's life treatin' ya these days?"

The orderly, as usual, chose to remain silent. The Joker took it as a bad sign.

"That bad huh?" The clown let out a long dramatic, exasperated sigh. "I hear ya. It's tough out there isn't it?"

At this point, the two had reached the elevator and stepped into it while the orderly silently pressed the button commanding the metal box to descend.

The Joker twisted his head from side to side to crack away some of the aching in his neck. Insufficient amounts of sleep always left him sore and aching in the oddest place.

The clown sighed and turned his attention back to the orderly who was concentrating on staring at the crevice of the doors. The Joker smiled at the chance to put his skills of persuasion to use. "You know…" he drawled. "life is just _so_ much easier when you have _friends_. Isn't it?"

Again, the orderly chose to ignore him.

The Joker continued anyway. "And wouldn't it be _nice_ to have a friend in a scary place like this?"

The orderly fidgeted a bit in his place but he did not utter a word. He was clearly uncomfortable, but unfortunately for him, the Joker could care less.

" _Jerry_ ," the clown sang his name. "Do you want to be my friend?"

The orderly tensed up and finally turned his head slowly to stare cautiously at the patient. "No." He said, sounding braver than he felt. "I do _not_ want to be your friend."

The Joker's grin widened. "Are you sure? Believe it or not, a lot of _good_ comes from being friends with me." He pauses to lean in close and invade his personal space. The orderly shifts on his feet in discomfort but does not move away. " _Trust_ me Jerry," whispers the clown menacingly. "You're better off _with_ me than _against_ me."

The orderly took a step away from him and was saved from answering him when the elevator dinged, arriving on the lowest floor. "Saved by the bell," said the Joker with a click of his tongue and smiled at the timing. He straightened himself out and walked ahead of the frozen orderly. "You think about what I said Jerry. I'll want an answer _soon_."

The orderly remained frozen in his place for a fraction of a second before remembering his duty. He scurried quickly to the Joker's side to escort him back to his cell. In truth, 'Jerry' was glad that he didn't have to react to the Joker's proposal. But he dreaded for the time to come where he would be forced to react.

* * *

A week or two has passed since the Joker began plotting his next steps after witnessing Dr. Arkham and his blonde patient interact. For the most part, he hasn't bothered her during recreational time. He would occasionally wave and receive a cold, swift turn of the head in return. To this, the Joker would simply shrug and go about his business. He had used this time productively by recruiting several other patients in his plot. They were ready to do the Joker's bidding with a simple nod of his head in exchange for the promise of his pudding cups and biscuits every day they were allowed in the cafeteria. It was a small price to pay. _Some people are so agonizing simple._

Today, he was sitting alone on the couch that he had claimed as his own the moment he first planted himself there. Seating himself was _all_ he had to do to claim it as his property. The Joker had a well-known reputation for being possessive and territorial; the others thought it best not to approach anywhere the Joker is or has been… just to be safe.

For the past week, the Joker had made it a habit to sit at that very couch every day during rec time. The position of the couch provided an excellent view of the entire room. From there, he could spot everyone he needed to see without turning himself too much in any direction. Lately, his eyes seemed to be always transfixed on the double doors of the room. He would sit with a concentrated stare that could easily be mistaken for a glare if one was not familiar enough with his usual facial expression. Which most weren't.

This made the other patients very uncomfortable whenever they walked by or even glanced at him from a safe distance. If only his expression was the sole source of their discomfort; Unfortunately, his body language did not bode well with _anyone_. The couch that the Joker perched himself into was _by far_ the best seat in the house. Anyone in the asylum who had ever sat there could not deny that it was the _most_ comfortable seat that they had ever been in; even the doctors agreed with this sentiment. The couch was extremely plush and had a way of sinking its occupants into it in just the right way, where they felt themselves being almost hugged by it without the fear of being sunken into it so much that they feel like they're trapped. It is often described by many that the couch could very possibly be the closest experience to laying on a cloud.

Now, the problem here is that the Joker did not look like how one should while sitting on this couch. He was rigid and stern rather than languid and relaxed. His whole body looked stiff and locked into place. His nails dug into the cushions of the seat and his fingers twitched ever so often from the pressure. It was an abnormal sight to behold. For reasons not understood by most, it made them very uncomfortable and on edge; more so than usual when the Joker is around. But what could they do? He _technically_ wasn't bothering anyone and even if he was, no one had the courage to intervene in anything that he did. So, everyone averted their gaze and tried their best to ignore while simultaneously keeping tabs on him from the corner of their eyes.

The Joker was aware of the terribly concealed attentiveness that was directed towards him. It didn't bother him. Being the center of attention was something that he was used to; in fact, most times he encouraged it.

At the moment, however, he was too focused on the task at hand to pay any mind to anything other than that. What was the task at hand? There was a reason he was concentrating on the door. He was waiting for the good ole' Dr. Arkham to walk through. He needed to get to the key that dangled from his hip. He had it on good authority that today would be the day that the doctor would visit. He was sitting patiently waiting for him.

He had a plan that he was sure would play out without a hitch, but, the attention that he was getting from everyone might make it hard for him to go about it unnoticed. He knew why everyone was on edge, so he knew how to return the atmosphere of the room back to how it should be. He swung his head forward and used the motion to rock himself on his feet without the use of his hands. He rolled his shoulders and twisted his head to the side, cracking his neck, before his feet started moving. He knew where he was going. The little blonde was sitting alone -as usual- reading a magazine. The Joker hadn't bothered her in a while, so he wasn't sure how she would receive him.

He pulled the chair out next to her and purposefully allowed it to screech obnoxiously against the floor. She didn't cringe at the sound like he wanted her to. She only glowered at him; and not as strongly as she normally does. As the Joker took his seat, he examined her face questionably. Something about her was off today. Upon his inspection, he noted that she had dark circles underneath her eyes. Lack of sleep? _What; Is the little princess having sleepless nights? Not enough fuel to keep that firing going? Pathetic…_

The Joker rolled his eyes at her without her notice before putting on his cheerful façade. "Hello darling. How are you today?"

She allowed herself to look at him briefly before returning her attention to her magazine. "Peachy," she grumbled and turned a page briskly.

The Joker shook his head and tsked disapprovingly. "You don't sound _peachy_. What's wrong blondie? This place _finally_ wearing you down?"

She sighed heavily and closed her magazine in her lap defeatedly. "Look, can we do this another day? I swear I'll rip ya a new one on another day."

The Joker chuckled deeply to himself and was getting ready to verbally jab her, when from the corner of his eye, he saw none other than the good ole' Dr. Arkham himself waltz through the door. _The man of the hour has_ _finally_ _arrived._

A Cheshire smile spread across his lips as his eyes drifted back to his little lamb. He knew that Dr. Arkham most likely wouldn't approach her while he was sitting there talking to her. So there really was only _one_ way to bring the doctor over…

"You know doll," the Joker said smoothly, leaning back into his chair suavely with one arm dangling over the back of the chair. "You're very _pretty_. Do you know that?"

She crunched her face up in a mix of both surprise and disgust. "What?"

The Joker smiled ' _pleasantly_.' "I mean it. I think you're too beautiful for a place like this."

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment and then rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks I guess…" She said sarcastically.

"Oh you don't believe me do you?" The Joker couldn't help the smile that took over his features. He was really enjoying his private little game. "Well then why don't we ask for someone else's opinion hm?" At this point, the Joker had mostly gone back to being completely ignored by everyone in the room. The only eyes he had on him now were the eyes he _wanted_ on him. The Joker turned in his seat to call out to one of the other patients who was staring directly at the two. "Grubby! Come 'ere buddy." The Joker grinned deviously.

Grubby was an oaf. A man who had no regard for the comfort of others. For the most part he was a quiet person. Only speaking when spoken to; mostly. But, he had a terrible habit of staring too intensely at people of interest. When something catches his eye, he does nothing but stare at it blatantly and unashamedly, much to the discomfort of the object of his desire. As for his name, he had no idea why people called him Grubby. He had heard that it was because of the way he stared at people that led them to believe that at any moment, he would grab them with his grubby little hands. But who really knows the origin of his name. _And honestly, who even cares…_

Grubby complied with the Joker's request and wobbled over to him. The Joker's companion looked over her shoulder questionably at the patient he was referring to. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew she didn't like it. Dealing with the Joker alone was a migraine in it of itself. Adding someone else to this mix was simply overkill.

Grubby stood before the two with his eyes directed toward the blonde.

"Grubby!" The Joker greeted enthusiastically and stood to give him a good pat on the back. Grubby didn't react at all to the Joker's greetings. His intense stare on the blonde wouldn't break. The Joker's lips stretched wider at his lack of response. He rested his elbow on Grubby's shoulder and leaned on the patient carelessly with no protest. "Grubby my boy, I was just telling this pretty little number here, how- well, how pretty she is. Don'tcha think Grubby?"

Grubby said nothing and continued to burn his eyes into that of the blonde's. She in turn, returned his gaze confidently. She wasn't at all phased by him. Rather, she looked at him with an expression that seemed to be a mix of irritation and concern. She was analyzing him. Trying to figure out why on Earth he was staring at her so determinedly. There is a part of her that can't help but try to understand other people. It wasn't because she particularly cared; she was just curious. But right now, her annoyance for him was outweighing her intrigue.

The Joker took in her expression and smiled. He cupped his mouth with his left hand and leaned forward a bit, as if he was about to let her in on a big secret. "Uh- Grubby here isn't much of a talker. But…" He looks to Grubby slyly then back at the blonde and whispers in a quiet, animated tone, "I think he likes you."

The Joker watched as the furrow of her eyebrows deepened. He straightened himself out and then spoke in his usual mischievous and lively voice. "Poor Grubby here can only express himself in so many ways, blondie." He said with mocking sympathy. His eyes then darted up to see Dr. Arkham watching the little lamb from the corner of his eye. The Joker smiled to himself and turned slowly to his male companion. He rested his hand on his back and patted three times, signaling him to initiate the task he was given. " _Grubby,_ why don't you show blondie here, just how much you _like_ her."

Grubby took three steps forward and before she could react, he grabbed her by the throat and had her pinned to the floor. It took her a moment to process the situation in her sleep deprived state. But as soon as her body caught up with her mind, she started clawing at the other patient with everything that she had. He was stronger and bigger than her, but she was hardly unaccustomed to dealing with people who were. She quickly ceased her fruitless clawing to take on a new strategy. She dug her fingers into his neck and endeavored to return his asphyxiating assault with all her might. Knowing that she was at a disadvantage being underneath him, she latched her legs around his waist and rolled herself on top of him; changing their positions. Unfortunately, his hold on her neck didn't falter and she was growing weaker because of the lack of oxygen.

Meanwhile, The Joker was looking to the people that he had hired to step in and do their part. Two other patients were tasked with livening up the crowd and get them excited about the brawl. They ran up to the two on the ground and started chanting, "fight, fight, fight!" Practically all of the other patients immediately joined in. The orderlies couldn't contain the situation; let alone reach the two that were fighting. They were completely surrounded by the crowd of patients enjoying the brawl. The orderlies tried to elbow their way through to get to the heart of the situation but they had little success in doing so. Dr. Arkham was among the orderlies trying desperately to reach the blonde patient who was fighting for her life.

The good doctor was kept at bay and was too distracted by the commotion around him to pay any notice to the Joker's quick and stealthy hands. The Joker maneuvered himself right next to Dr. Arkham and slid the key mold down from inside his sleeve into his hand. While the doctor was fruitlessly elbowing his way to the center of the commotion, the Joker quickly took the opportunity of his obstructed mobility to grab the only silver key hanging from his waist and pressed it into his key mold while it was still attached to the doctor's hip. He pressed for two seconds before letting go and moving himself discreetly out of the crowd.

Blondie in the meantime, had abandoned her attempt of choking Grubby back to reach shakily for whatever she could grab on the table. She felt around quickly until her fingers felt the edge of the magazine that she had been reading. Her nails scratched at the paper to bring it closer so that she could grasp it. She was desperate to have _any_ sort of weapon. She was losing herself and was slowly sinking onto her assailant in exhaustion when she finally grabbed the magazine roughly and slapped it across his face. Pages went flying and he was surprised enough by the sudden attack, that he actually broke his hold on her. She gasped for air and took this small opportunity to roll up the thick pages together and raised it above her head as though she was getting ready to drive a sword into his skull. She would if she had one, but given the circumstances, she could only swiftly bring down her makeshift weapon to jab him in the eye. She jabbed and jabbed and jabbed at his left eye repeatedly with everything that she had. Each time she stabbed him, she raised the rolled-up magazine high to use the downward force of gravity to her advantage to strengthen her attacks. The rolled-up magazine did more damage than one would guess. The spine was tough and allowed her to really dig into his eye. Small spatters of blood decorated her face with every hit that she made. His left eye became less and less recognizable with each stab.

At this time, Dr. Arkham had finally managed to reach her and he grabbed her wrists, preventing her from bringing the magazine down for another attack. She glared viciously at him from over her shoulder and tried to wriggle her wrists free.

Dr. Arkham was pink faced with anger and practically shouted directly in her ear. "THAT'S ENOUGH HARLEEN!"

Three orderlies had managed to reach the center as well, and two of the three grabbed the woman whose feet were kicking in protest every which way. She was quickly injected with haloperidol into her neck and her kicks slowed until she completely sagged into the arms of the two carrying her. The other orderly had immediately gone to attend to the patient on the ground with a new bleeding hole in his face.

At this point, the entire asylum must have been notified of what transpired because a horde of orderlies marched in to grab any patient in the room that they could get their hands on to escort them back to their cells. Over the hustle and bustle, Dr. Arkham was heard yelling, "Code yellow!"

Before he let himself get snatched by a white scrub, the Joker waltzed over to Two-Face who was rising from his seat for the first time since from even before the commotion began. Two-Face gave him a knowing smile and reached to clasp the Joker's hand and pat his back with the other as a quick friendly ' _greeting_ '. When the key mold was safely in Two-Face's hand he slid it up his sleeve discreetly just as the Joker had done before. He shook his head in impressed disbelieve and said, "You swifty son of a bitch."

The Joker only replied with his infamous devilish Cheshire smile before he was spotted by an orderly and allowed himself to be taken back to his cell.

* * *

 **AN: Yeah it's been a while I know. I'm trying people!**

 **Thank you so much for reading the story thus far. I hope you continue to do so! I'll see ya all in the next chapter! :D**


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